


Get It Up

by DasMervin, MrsHyde (DasMervin)



Series: The Writing on the Wall [19]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angels do not get consent, Barebacking, Begging, Birthday Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Castiel, But you're not helping Dean, Castiel Talks Dirty, Come Shot, Cowgirl Position, Creampie, Destiel - Freeform, Dirty Talk, Dominant Bottom, Dominant Castiel, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Frottage, Groping, Grumpy Dean, Hand Jobs, Headcanon, Human Castiel, Kissing, Licking, Lube, M/M, Making Out, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Coital Cuddling, Quiet Sex, Rimming, Secret Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Shameless Smut, Slash, Smug Dean, Somnophilia, Top Dean, Topping from the Bottom, Wet Dream, safe sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-03-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 00:04:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1113115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DasMervin/pseuds/DasMervin, https://archiveofourown.org/users/DasMervin/pseuds/MrsHyde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first collection of fics in the very porny continuation of “The Writing on the Wall” universe.</p><p>Now that Dean is fully comfortable with his relationship with Cas and has thrown almost all of their rules out the window, he has to get used to the idea of Cas taking advantage of his new freedom every chance he gets—and setting some new boundaries as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Get It Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is awakened from a very pleasant dream only to discover that it wasn’t _all_ just a dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, readers! Happy New Year! Welcome back to “Writing on the Wall”! As requested, Hyde and I have decided to start posting a lot, if not all, of the asides and extras we wrote to go along with it post-“Coming Back to Life”. And so marks the beginning of… _these_ fics.
> 
> The main body of “Writing on the Wall” is complete, as you are all well aware. Dean and Cas are in their happy place, they’re pretty much _married_ at this point, and they have finally become comfortable both physically and emotionally with one another. Specifically, _Dean_ is comfortable physically and emotionally with Cas. As such, Hyde and I thought of no better way to celebrate that huge and final accomplishment by writing _epic amounts of porn_.
> 
> Seriously. Almost none of these add _anything_ to the plot. They hardly add anything to characterization, save showing that Dean is willing to try more and more things with Cas and explaining a few of Dean’s remaining hang-ups. But honestly, even that’s a bit of a stretch—no, the real reason we wrote them because we’re dirty and perverted and wanted to spend some time indulging our fetishes now that we’d gotten Dean where we wanted him so that it made _sense_ for him to indulge said fetishes with his boyfriend.
> 
> So, they are porn. They are more porny and “Plot What Plot” than “Machine Gun” was, by far. If you’re looking for epic love stories here, you aren’t gonna get it. The romance story is pretty much done—we’re not telling any kind of tale here. Very few of these pieces contribute _anything_ to the main “Writing on the Wall” storyline and only contribute to making us (and hopefully others) happy in a Special Place. And some of them are written with _specific_ fetishes in mind, some of which we will be warning for ahead of time.
> 
> Really, you could almost consider this an…alternate take on what Dean and Cas did after “Coming Back to Life”. We admit it—we’re being self-indulgent and almost writing postscript fanfic of our own damn fanfic with all of this. So you can take it or leave it—we hope you take it, but we certainly won’t make you.
> 
> This first piece, “Get It Up”, was written by me, Mervin. We’ll be distinguishing who wrote what this time around, because we want to make sure you know exactly who to blame. ;) Yeah, Hyde made significant contributions to it and the others I did, and I made significant contributions to the ones that are hers, but the idea, most of the writing, and the perviness do need to be assigned. It’s not quite a stand-alone, as there will be two more parts to it—just two short “Good Times, Bad Times”-style ficlets—but it is basically it’s own fic. Just to get us started into the time past “Writing on the Wall”. I hope you enjoy it, because Dean certainly did.

* * *

_February, 2026_

Dean wasn’t sure when Cas had gotten here, but he had absolutely no objections to it. Cas could join in. Actually, he considered the situation improved ten-fold now that he was here.

It had just been him and the hot, curvy blonde with nice tits before. They couldn’t have been doing much, though—he could hardly remember it. But Cas was here now, so everything was great. He was here and his hands were warm on his chest as he lay next to him on all the big plushy pillows, and Heather scooted out of their way to work the lower half, her hot fingers curling nicely around his prick. Yeah—this was good. He needed this.

Mmm—Cas wasn’t in a rush, which was pleasant. His hair was very soft under his hands, and when he reached over to the other side of him, the boobs under his hands were soft, too. Everything was soft, so everything was great. He liked that Heather was working his cock because it left Cas’s hands both free to stroke his chest as he kissed him, his mouth leaving Dean’s so he could kiss the spots he’d just touched with his fingers, but he wasn’t left all alone—Heather kept workin’ him as she moved to take up the kissing-Dean’s-mouth post. Good on her.

The grip on his cock changed—a glance down and he saw Cas was jacking him now while Heather reached lower, fondling his sack. This was a tag-team he very much approved of. Her tits were pressed up against his side, which rocked, and he tilted his head to the side as she licked up and down his neck when Cas came back up for more kissing. That was good—he wanted to kiss Cas again. He _hmmed_ a bit against Cas’s mouth, already rocking his hips in time with the movement of his hand. They were both damn good—he wasn’t sure who was doing better down there. He twitched a little when Heather nibbled at his nipple, her fingers lightly playing with the other one, and damn, that ruled, especially with the way Cas sucked at his neck at the same time.

He was pretty sure Heather now had his dick wedged between her boobs, which was fantastic, but he couldn’t see it because Cas was on him, just kissing him over and over, and Dean just enjoyed the soft slide of his skin under his fingers. God, Cas tasted nice. Oh—he was gone. But not vanished, no, he and Heather were switching spots. Oh, fuck yes—Dean arched up a little when he felt wet heat surround his prick, because Cas was giving him a blowjob. Cas was giving him a blowjob and he had tits in his hands. Things did not get any better than this.

Dean brushed his thumbs over her perky nipples before looping an arm around her back and bringing them right up to his face ‘cause he wanted some of that action. While he licked and sucked them (and while Cas licked and sucked _him_ ), Dean reached down between her legs so he could get his fingers in her wet pussy. He chuckled at the little noises she made, but his amusement was cut off because Cas did that _thing_ with his tongue, all up in his dick like that, and _fuck_ , that was awesome. It felt good. It felt really, _really_ good.

They kept switching. Sometimes they did it so frequently he couldn’t tell who was sucking him off and who was licking his chest. But he always knew who was kissing his mouth. Nobody kissed like Cas did. Normally nobody gave blowjobs like Cas did either, but damned if Heather wasn’t actually keeping up with him. It was great. Everything was great. Picking her up had been a brilliant idea.

The strange, muffled sound of a car driving by was what finally snapped him out of it and made him realize that everything was a dream, which of course also made him realize that he’d be waking up soon. He could already feel it—things were starting to fade, like the sensation of Heather’s hair dragging across his chest, and the feel of her tits under his hands. He knew he couldn’t hold onto it for very long, so he just focused on hanging onto one sensation: Cas, down there, still sucking him off. That’s what he could feel the most, so he clung to it even as he tried to will himself to go back to sleep, to get back to the dream. He wasn’t ready to leave it, dammit.

But it was all gonna fade eventually. He was becoming aware of the soft pillows getting rougher, the squishy bed turning harder—his hazy, happy dreamland melting away into his usual crappy motel bed. He didn’t bother trying to cling to those luxuries, because his dream blowjob was still strong, making him dreading finally waking up and losing it all the more. It felt _good_ —he hoped whoever drove that car by their room got a flat tire in the near future, the asshat.

He gave up. The dream was over, and he was awake, and he knew it. So, taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes, scattering the rest of the dream and leaving him in a shitty motel room in a shitty bed.

…except he still felt like he was getting his dick sucked.

For a brief second, he very stupidly was about to congratulate himself for managing to hold onto his dream for that long. Some part of his brain, however—the sarcastic part—woke up before he could and told him that was the dumbest thing it’d ever heard. So he struggled to sit up, confused and blinking rapidly, and looked down—

And there was Cas, sitting there between his legs, staring up at him…his lips locked around Dean’s cock as he sucked it.

Dean had absolutely nothing. He knew his jaw was flapping open, but he didn’t have the wherewithal to try and close his mouth. Sleep was still fogging his brain, his mental gears still creaky as they sluggishly tried to move, and he just couldn’t _process_ this. Cas was—Cas was giving him a blowjob. Cas was sucking him off. Cas had _been_ sucking him off—while he’d still been _asleep_ —was probably the whole reason he’d been having that dream _in the first place_ —

Cas pulled away, sliding Dean’s prick out of his mouth. He wasn’t smiling, but he had that content serenity all over his face. “Good morning, Dean,” he said, his voice soft.

_Good morn—what?!_

That little _bastard_ —he’d just—who told him he could do that?! While he was _asleep_?! Dean never said he could do that! What the _fuck_ was this?! Oh, he was gonna _get it_ —

Any words Dean was trying to build up in his throat just kind of died there when Cas started right back up, sucking hard at the head of his dick, pushing his tongue hard and up inside of it, and all Dean could do was thickly grunt and twitch.

Okay…okay, so maybe Cas wasn’t gonna get it. Because letting Cas have it would mean this had to stop, and hadn’t he been clinging to this sensation while waking up? So…yeah. He could keep doing it. A lot.

Dean spread his legs, raising his knees and allowing Cas to settle more comfortably between them. He gladly did so, stretching out of the cramped position he’d been in before, and Dean could see the long line of his back all the way to his ass the way he was sitting now, the fading scars on one half barely visible in the low morning light of the room, and it was awesome. He was just sucking gently, going back and forth, only going about halfway down, his fingers gently massaging Dean’s balls, and it was also awesome. He’d changed his mind about being pissed—best wake-up call _ever_ , he decided.

He kept himself propped up on his elbows so he could watch—really, Cas had no right looking that satisfied with himself. Dean supposed he could make him pay for it later, because he so wasn’t in any right mind to do it now.

“Mm…yeah, you suck it good,” Dean murmured, unconsciously rocking his hips a little in time with Cas’s mouth, reaching down to stroke Cas’s hair. Cas went a little deeper, and then pulled off his cock, just licking the tip over and over again. Jesus, that drove him insane every fucking time.

“Put that cock back in your mouth,” Dean breathed, and he groaned when Cas obeyed, slowly sliding his prick between his lips and not stopping until he took him deep, all the way, and Dean let his head fall back as he felt Cas’s throat working him, felt his tongue stroking the underside of his cock. “Yeah…like that,” he managed. “Suck it.”

Cas slowly pulled back, the pace agonizing, sucking the whole time, and when he reached the end, Dean felt him take a breath and go back down, at the same slow, maddening speed, his hands stroking Dean’s hips as he did. _Fuck_ , it was good…oh, _shit_ , back up…

Dean felt like he was going cross-eyed by the third set of strokes. There was no rush here, but he was going insane anyway. He figured it was probably because some part of his mind was still wrestling with, “Cas pulled the sheets off me and started giving me a blowjob in my sleep.” But his body was all here, and so he just let out a moan when Cas finally pulled back again, doing that long, slow lick at the head of his cock.

“Lower,” he suddenly said, tilting his head back up and looking at Cas. Cas was looking back, his gaze questioning. “Suck my balls.”

Now he got it. Dean sighed and let his eyes fall closed as he felt his tongue rasping all the way down his prick, and then he drew in a breath when he felt that same tongue right there on his sack, slowly drawing one into his mouth and sucking, and then doing it to the other, his loose fist just jerking Dean’s prick the whole time. Dean spread his legs some more to give Cas more room, and then looked down, unable to resist, because seeing Cas down there, looking up at him from behind his dick while he sucked his balls—never failed to get the fire in his belly stoked a little hotter.

“ _Shit_ , Cas,” he groaned, because those leisurely strokes of his tongue and hand driving him insane. And yes, they must’ve done just that, because he let himself fall backwards, staring briefly up at the ceiling before he reached down and got his hand behind one knee, slowly pulling it back, and he felt Cas’s mouth leave his sack as heard himself say it: “ _Lower._ ”

There was a pause, and he could feel Cas’s breath puffing across his junk the whole time. “Do you want me to lick your ass, Dean?” Cas asked, his voice still low and Dean knew it wasn’t intentional but _goddamn_ , he managed to sound all _seductive_ anyway.

“ _Yes_ ,” Dean gasped, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. “Come on—eat me out.”

Cas’s free hand slid up to his thigh, pushing Dean’s other leg up even as Dean pulled again on the other he was already holding, and he was all but quivering with anticipation and wishing Cas would just hurry up and do it—

He couldn’t help the low moan that escaped him when Cas slowly licked down past his balls, his tongue slinking down there, over his taint and right down across his asshole, and it was _awesome_.

Cas was keeping his licks slow and deliberate right now, just over and over, and his tongue was all wet and slick. Dean had to keep his eyes on the ceiling, because if he closed them or looked down, he knew things would start getting out of hand and send him shooting far too close to the end too fast and he didn’t want to do that—they’d just started. Or rather, he had—God knew how long Cas had been working him before he’d woken up.

The slow, repetitive pace was hypnotic—somehow, it was actually helping him calm down a little, just those unhurried, easy swipes of his tongue. There was nothing frantic about it, and Dean was still trying to wake completely up. ‘Course, the more he woke up, the more he realized that Cas was _eating him out_ , that Dean had _told him to do it_ , but by the time he began to truly let that thought sink in and give his brain a chance to point out how he was groaning and pulling his knee back even further, Cas had started licking harder and that just sent everything in his head scattering again.

Dean shuddered when Cas stopped with the deliberate licks and started up rapid but teasing ones, unable to stop himself from breathing Cas’s name. He almost protested when he felt Cas’s tongue leave his ass, but no, he was only taking a brief detour to run his tongue over his taint and them on up to his balls, sucking them one at a time into his mouth and making soft little noises as he did. Then Cas’s hand pressed against his ass again, spreading his cheeks further, and his lips and tongue were right back where they needed to be. Mother _fuck_ , this had no right to feel as good as it did.

Cas was just gently licking and occasionally _sucking_ , but every so often Dean would feel just the tip of his tongue, right there, tantalizing against his asshole, and he’d tense because surely he was gonna do it, gonna push _inside_ —but he never did. No, he’d just make him _think_ it was about to happen, but then back off. Fuckin’ _cocktease_. And he just kept _doing_ it, and Dean’s stomach muscles clenched every time he thought it was going to happen even though he was starting to think it never would—and thinking it never would if he didn’t fucking _do_ something was what drove him to it.

“ _Cas_ ,” he moaned, tilting his head back against the pillows and closing his eyes, wheezing. “You—”

He didn’t have the wherewithal to be appalled at that whimper he just made as Cas just licked all up his asscrack, long and slow, his tongue going over his balls and then slicking all the way up his cock, ending with a little twirl of his tongue on the head of his prick. “Yes, Dean?” he asked softly, all _innocent_ , and Dean swore he sounded _expectant_ , like this was exactly what he’d been waiting for this whole time, but Dean didn’t care—he dimly knew that probably wasn’t the case, not with how clueless Cas was, but even if it was true he _didn’t fucking care_ —

“Just—tongue-fuck me. Do it. _Please._ ”

For a split second, Dean’s still-sluggish brain almost caught up with him and almost made him realize what was happening—and what he’d just _begged_ for. His eyes opened again, seeing only the ceiling above him, but before he could glance down and _see_ what was going on, Cas’s tongue was back, the point right up against his asshole, _pressing_ , and _pushing_ , and—oh, _shit_ —

He didn’t know what the noise was that had just escaped him as Cas started to do just what Dean had told him to, getting his tongue all up his ass, but he’d ponder later how unmanly it was.

Cas still had one hand on Dean’s prick, but he wasn’t even jerking him anymore. Only his thumb was moving, stroking over the head, moving in time with his tongue. The combination of the two was making Dean shake, it felt so _good_ , and all he could do was squeeze his eyes shut and ride it out, his hand still tight around the back of his knee. He kept feeling little sparks shoot down his legs that made him twitch uncontrollably.

“Yes,” Dean heard himself moaning, “ _fuck_ yes, just like that, Cas, you fuck my ass with your tongue…”

Cas’s tongue never stopped moving, and his rhythm only changed when he decided to speed up, and Dean wheezed helplessly and knotted his free hand in the blankets as Cas’s tongue pressed into him and then pulled away, over and over again, just like he’d been told—and it felt _so fucking good_ , just like he knew it would—

Dean felt Cas strain forward as far as he could go, pushing his tongue forward, and then he just— _fucking Christ_ , he just _held_ it there, and he was just _wiggling_ it, and Dean could _feel it_ , _feel it all up inside him Jesus Fucking Christ_ —

But then it was gone, and Dean gasped weakly as Cas gently licked at his ballsack, and then slid his wet mouth up his prick, and then his lips closed around just the tip, sucking softly and making him shiver. Dean finally looked down again, seeing Cas down there between his legs, the way his fingers were curled around his upper thighs, seeing how goddamned _pleased_ he looked with everything, and then his tongue slipped out from between his lips and lapped at the head of Dean’s cock, just once.

That bastard.

“Get up here,” he managed, his voice only a little strangled.

Everything about Cas was apparently leisurely today, because he didn’t do his usual mad-scramble to get up and on top of Dean when given that command. Instead, he just calmly climbed on top of him, letting Dean drop his legs and lower his knees first so Cas wouldn’t wind up between his legs because he knew Dean didn’t like that. Once Cas’s thighs were on either side of Dean’s hips where he sat astride him, Dean got his arms tight around Cas and yanked him down, crushing his mouth against Cas’s and trying to _make_ him be more frantic, because goddamn, he could _not_ take this slow pace Cas had set.

After he reached down with both hands and squeezed Cas’s ass hard, he blundered back up and got his fingers knotted in Cas’s hair, determined to kiss the breath out of him. Cas was gripping the pillow under Dean’s head, and when he ground his hips against Dean’s, Dean couldn’t help but echo Cas’s grunt of pleasure. When Cas rolled his hips again, Dean could only thrust up a bit to meet him, keeping their pricks sliding against each other just right where they were trapped between their stomachs. Oh, fuck yes, he could keep that up all day.

Cas really had no business turning him on like this, especially after that dirty little trick of his. “ _Good morning, Dean_ ”—if he hadn’t just woken up and hadn’t been distracted, he would’ve decked him. Well, he could always do that later. For now, he had to concentrate on the way Cas had slipped down a bit to drag his tongue across Dean’s chest, teasing his nipples and nibbling here and there in ways that always pleased him. However, soon he was stretching up, lifting away from him, scooting forward and away and Dean felt a stab of outrage and tightened his grip on him, because where the hell did he think _he_ was going—but then he heard the rattling sound of Cas fumbling about on the table up by the bed and realized what he was going for. Right—the heated lube. They’d left it there last night after Dean had used it to slick up Cas’s thighs and then gone to town for their little after-hunt hoorah.

While Cas groped around up there for the bottle, Dean figured he could busy himself with paying Cas back, so he propped up on his elbows a little and got an arm around Cas’s shoulders, straining up to get his mouth on Cas’s neck. Cas made a noise in his throat as Dean didn’t wait around, immediately sucking and licking and biting every inch of skin he could get his lips on, and then slipping his hand down to Cas’s cock, starting to just loosely stroke him. Dean couldn’t help but smirk because it was taking him way longer than usual to get what he needed—Dean loved it when he got him all fumble-fingered and distracted. Sure, Cas could do it to him, too, but Dean did it _more_ , so there.

Too soon, Cas retrieved what he was looking for, and then he was right back to where he was, his thighs tight around Dean’s waist, his hands sinking into the bed on either side of Dean’s shoulders. He paused for one moment, and then Dean grunted when suddenly Cas was kissing him, more fiercely and intensely than he had this entire time, even when Dean was trying to make him do it. But before Dean could even respond, he’d vanished, sitting up quickly, rocking back and making Dean close his eyes briefly and _hmm_ deep in his throat when his butt just planted right there on his dick as he just _sat_ on him, sitting astride him and bringing the bottle of lube up so he could pop it open. _Dammit, you did that on purpose_ , he thought at him, moving his hips a little so he could feel his cock rubbing where it was all sandwiched between those sweet little cheeks.

Dean slid his hands up Cas’s thighs until they came to rest on his hips, squeezing as he tried to push him down against his hard-on even as he braced himself against the bed and tried to thrust up against him in turn. Yeah, he was impatient, but goddammit, Cas was bein’ slow as molasses! It was driving him crazy, just watching him let that lube drip into his waiting palm, and he knew that feeling all that wet, slick, sliding _heat_ was just right there, waiting for him, but Cas was being a teasing little bitch!

The bottle snapped shut, and Cas didn’t bother leaning back up to return it to the table. Instead, he just set it down beside them in bed, and then he started easing himself backwards, letting Dean’s prick slide between his buttcheeks the whole time. Dean had to bite his lip when he felt Cas’s sack start dragging roughly over the head of his cock, and then down the full length— _Jesus_ , was Cas trying to make his head explode?!

Cas only stopped moving when he had their dicks aligned, and his free hand came down to press them tightly together. Dean spared a brief moment to be a little annoyed—this wasn’t the first time that Cas had decided that he wanted his frot like this. It had happened once before, when Dean had been a bit drunk. And it’d been a complete _mess_ , because it didn’t matter how long it had been or how many times Dean did it for him—Cas had never learned to catch the load. So that was how Dean wound up with _both_ his and Cas’s spunk all splattered across his stomach and chest, and although he’d been way too blissed out to care when it’d been happening, he’d sure as hell cared when it was over, and he knew he would this time as well.

But then the hand with all the lube in it was curling around their cocks, starting to stroke and squeeze, and he could feel it starting to heat up, and he didn’t give a flying fuck anymore.

Cas’s hand was moving in time with his gently rocking hips, their cocks sliding hotly against one another, getting that lube all spread around and thoroughly coating them both. Dean kept his hands on Cas’s hips, struggling to keep himself still, because he could handle this pace—he could draw it out, because he wanted to draw it out now, too. Checkout was still probably a few hours away, so it wasn’t like there was a _time limit_ , or anything. And besides, they’d only messed around once on this trip, and that was last night. Getting in another was definitely not objectionable. But it felt so fucking _good_ , and it was still almost _teasing_ , Cas keeping his fingers light and his strokes slow, so Dean couldn’t help but dig his fingers into Cas’s flesh every time he squeezed them together a little tighter or pulled his hips back a little further to draw it out more. He slowly got one knee bent again so he could move his hips a little more forcefully, and for support for Cas if he felt like using it to move faster himself.

Dean tilted his head back a little, sinking further into the pillows as he felt Cas’s thumb pressing against the head of his dick, but then he looked up when he felt Cas let go. He didn’t let go of Dean’s prick, granted, which was nice, but he’d clearly let go of his own. Dean wanted to ask him what the hell he was doing, but he couldn’t do much of anything other than try and suck in stuttering breaths as Cas’s hand slicked over his cock, his palm circling the head, his fingers tight around it, just stroking up and down, all the way from tip to base, and it was _so hot_ , the lube was doing it’s intended job, all right, and—was he—he was sitting there _sucking his own fingers_ , all while staring right down at Dean, _fucking hell_ , what was he _doing_?!

He couldn’t take staring at that and feeling everything else, not if he wanted to last more than two seconds. So he threw his head back again, moaning pitifully when Cas pressed their cocks together again and started that steady rocking back up, listening to the tiny little wet sounds going on at his waist and the soft noises Cas was starting to make now. _Fuck_ , when had Cas decided to get inventive and—and _seductive_? When the _hell_ had that happened? Sure, Cas would suck Dean’s fingers, but only when he prompted him to do it—Cas had _never_ done—done _that_ , and Dean never would’ve imagined that it would turn him on so badly to see it.

Dean opened his eyes again when Cas started slowing down, and looked up again when he just stopped moving altogether. He’d better not be planning more of his start-and-stop shit. There was only so much Dean could take this early in the morning. Cas just stared down at him, though, once more letting go of his own prick, but he kept Dean’s firmly in his hand. The pressure on the mattress alerted him to Cas’s movement before he saw him slowly sitting up more, rising further up on his knees and leaning forward, and he inched forward a bit, taking advantage of Dean’s raised knee to help move him along. What—what was he—

Dean’s mouth went dry. No. No, he wasn’t—no way, Cas was _not_ —

He totally was.

All that came out of Dean’s mouth was a wheezing squeak as Cas kept a tight hold on Dean’s cock, slowly guiding it right between his asscheeks, and he was lowering himself, his eyes shut, biting down on his lower lip as he did—oh fuck—oh _fuck_ —Dean was shaking with Cas as he felt his cock sliding _inside_ —and it was _hot_ , and it was _tight_ , and—

He knew his eyes were wide and huge, because all he could do was stare slack-jawed at Cas, who had just _mounted up_ , a feeble flicker of indignation trying to wage war with everything else that was going on in him right now, but all of the circuits in his brain were melting. Cas was astride him. And Dean was balls-deep in his ass.

…Cas was gonna _ride_ him.

Cas wasn’t moving. He’d just settled down, obviously getting used to everything, his eyes still closed as he leaned forward a little, resting his hands against Dean’s chest. While he did, what little was left of Dean’s mind slowly managed to realize that the bastard had _planned_ this—he hadn’t been sucking on his fingers, no, he’d been getting them all nice and wet so he could reach back and finger his own ass. And the lube? Yeah. More than obvious now, but he’d had Dean so damn _distracted_ he—and he hadn’t even _asked_ —and he couldn’t—they didn’t _do this_ this way!

Dean gasped when he felt Cas _squeeze_ him, and he couldn’t stop the helpless little jerk of his hips when he did, and he felt Cas’s fingers flex against his skin.

“Dean,” Cas murmured, and Dean met his eyes. “Do you like this?” And he squeezed again, shifting, and Dean grunted thickly, probably bruising Cas’s hips, he was holding him so tightly.

“ _Yes_ ,” Dean finally managed to blurt out. God, why was he even _asking_ that?! He knew he liked it, why didn’t Cas just start _moving_ already?! He couldn’t take this, just sitting _still_ like this, all surrounded by that tight heat, all up in his _ass_ like this, Cas staring down at him—

Almost like he’d read Dean’s mind, he _finally_ moved, just rocking his hips forward, and Dean moaned as he felt that slow slide, and it was so _hot_ , because it wasn’t just the usual lube, no, they were using the heated stuff, and he didn’t think he could take this for long, not like this, fuck no, not like _this_ …

The pace was agonizing. Just that same goddamned rocking. Over and over. Up and down. In and out. Dean swore he could feel Cas clenching hard on every downstroke, and he had _no right_ to do that, because who told him he could—could be so damn _good_ at being on top like this?

Dean was tamping down on every urge to start trying to thrust up to meet him, to try and go _faster_ , because the sensible part of him—small it may have been at the moment—was insisting that Cas was just getting used to it—they always started slow, because just going nuts right at the beginning would be uncomfortable and he knew it, because they didn’t fuck often enough for Cas to be _that_ used to it. But the other, much louder part—that had been screaming ever since he’d woken up and seen Cas sucking his cock—kept saying that it was _all on purpose_ , that he was going so slow because he _knew_ Dean wanted it fast and wanted it hard, but he wasn’t gonna give it to him, oh no, because he was on top and he was trying to be in charge and Dean wished he could find a way to show him that he _so wasn’t_ but his brain was mush, completely absorbed by feeling his cock sliding in and out of Cas’s ass.

After a few more slow rolling circles, Dean released Cas’s hips and reached back and grabbed his ass, first spreading both cheeks as he gripped them tight, and then, as Cas pushed back down, squeezing them together, and Dean heard Cas groan with him as he did. But when he pushed all the way down again, burying Dean’s prick deep inside him, he stopped again, pretty much forcing Dean to look back up at him.

“ _Dean_ ,” he said, his voice low and rough, and Dean could see him loosely jacking himself, and Dean crazily thought about how he’d never, _ever_ seen this, never seen Cas just _jerk off_ so blatantly, but Dean couldn’t think about that because he was just _sitting_ there and wouldn’t _give_ him anything, and it wasn’t _fair_! But then he just asked. “Do you want it faster?”

_Oh, you son of a—_

One quick roll of his hips and a squeeze later, and Dean couldn’t do anything but arch his back upwards, hissing in a breath through his teeth. “Yes, I fucking _do_. Faster— _harder._ ”

Cas obliged him. He didn’t build up to it, either—he just braced himself, his palm sinking down into the mattress again, and started moving, pushing that sweet ass down on Dean hard every time. With the new position, Dean could finally get moving himself, bending his knees, bracing his feet on the mattress and pushing his hips up to meet him, easily matching Cas’s movements so that he went deep _every_ time, and _goddamn_ , that was so good, _so fucking good_ , and he could tell Cas was loving it too because he was panting, his lips parted as he rode him.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Dean gasped, pulling back and smacking Cas’s butt hard, squeezing where he slapped. “Fuck me, Cas.”

Cas shivered and made a noise in his throat. “Do you—like how I—fuck you?” he managed jerkily as he bounced on Dean’s dick, never stopping what he was doing, his fist working hard over his own cock, and the whole sight was too much.

Fire shot all the way down Dean’s spine, lodging itself right in his pelvis and making everything down there burn even hotter and twist tight. “ _Yes_ , you _know_ I like it,” Dean growled. “Now _fuck me_ , Cas, _fuck me hard!_ ”

Dean watched as Cas seemed to rear up, but then he let out a _guh_ when Cas just _slammed_ back down, driving his cock in his ass hard, just like he’d been told, and _fucking God_ , he did it again, only Dean managed to arch up to meet him—

If Dean had been pissed about how it wasn’t frantic before, he had no reason to whine about it now—this was nothing _but_ frantic, because he was desperately thrusting his hips up almost off the bed to meet Cas, as fast as he could, and Cas was moving with him, gasping and moaning and mewling, and it wasn’t long before all Dean could do was just try and keep up, his fingers on Cas’s hips, pumping his hips up and slamming Cas down on him every time, and he could hear himself sobbing those words still, over and over, “Just fuck me, Cas, _fuck me!_ ” and he didn’t care who heard it, he just wanted Cas to fuck him, and he _was_ —

He was dimly aware that Cas was jacking himself as he thrust, but he didn’t care. He could feel things coiling tighter in his belly, and he could only think of getting there, getting to that flashpoint, because if he didn’t, didn’t get it right now, it’d kill him. He rocked his head back and forth, wishing he could thrust faster into Cas’s ass, wishing he could go _deeper_ , _harder_ , but then he felt it once more, that ass just _squeezing_ him as Cas clenched around him, and _oh fuck_ , that did it, he felt everything starting to seize, oh fuck, oh fuck _oh fuck_ , “ _Oh FUCK, CAS!_ ”

He all but screamed it, his back bowing and his legs thrashing on the bed as he yanked Cas down, slamming his cock home, deep in his ass, and _shit fuck yes_ he was coming, he was coming in his ass, and he tried to hold Cas there as he did but he was _moving_ , Cas kept moving, his own keening sounds getting louder, and his hard short thrusts were near _agony_ , and Dean’s cries were strangled, holy _God_ , Cas, _Cas_ , it was too much, he couldn’t take this anymore, he had to stop, but it wasn’t stopping _none of it was fucking stopping Cas wouldn’t stop—!_

Dean’s almost pained moans were joined by Cas’s sharp wail, and he finally, _finally_ stopped thrusting, stopped _riding_ him, because Cas was coming—Dean could feel him jerking himself rapidly, shaking and reaching back and squeezing Dean’s upper thigh, almost like he was hanging on for dear life. Dean could vaguely feel the little spurts of come hitting his stomach, but his body was already going numb, and all he could see was the ceiling, all blurry because he kept going cross-eyed.

Cas was slumping forward, and Dean finally tilted his head down, just in time to see Cas very slowly releasing his own cock, a little dribble of come dripping from it to Dean’s belly, and a glance up revealed that Cas was looking just as dazed as he was, all hunched over and shivering. Dean fuzzily watched him as he struggled to catch his breath, and then Cas met Dean’s gaze, and there it was—underneath all of the dazed amazement was that _look_ , like Dean was the most wonderful thing on the planet.

Christ, Cas was dumb.

Dean never was able to keep track of time in any capacity after legit sex, but it wasn’t too long after it was all over that Cas suddenly lifted up, and Dean winced and grunted quietly as his soft cock slipped free of Cas’s ass. But Cas kept moving, leaning up, and Dean wrinkled his nose a little when Cas accidentally rubbed his own limp dick against his stomach as he did, smearing the spunk there. See? He’d been right—he totally cared _now_.

But then Cas was leaning back again, and Dean saw he had a wad of tissues in his hand. At first, he thought it was for Cas, but no, he should've known better—Dean could only lie there and take it as Cas started lovingly wiping off his stomach and chest, cleaning all of his jizz off for him. Cas loved to do that, and Dean had no clue why—well, when he did it…through other means, he understood why. Because that was hot. This, however, was just silly. If Dean had more energy, he would’ve told him to cut it out.

While he didn’t have the energy to tell him not to wipe up his moneyshot, he did have enough energy to tell him to get off. “Come on,” he grunted. “I wanna take care of the rest myself. And you need to…you know.”

Cas just nodded dreamily, slowly swinging his leg over Dean’s hips and stepping out of bed, only a little unsteady as he made his way toward the bathroom and—fuck, with Dean’s come running down his leg as he went. That rat-bastard—how dare he be so collected after all this? Dean’s knees were still wobbly, goddammit, and he was even having trouble sitting up. When he managed to get to his elbows, he glanced over and saw it was almost nine.

“You just go ahead and shower,” he ground out just as Cas reached the bathroom, and Cas paused briefly in the doorway. “We’ll be checking out soon—just wash up. I’ll go after.”

Cas nodded, his content, _smug_ little look on his face the whole time, and then he disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Dean had managed to drag himself out of bed by the time the shower started up; he was gonna shower, yeah, but he was so cleaning off right now. He’d just gone bareback— _again_ —and it was desperately needed.

He snorted. _Gone bareback—man up and say it, Winchester, you got_ ridden _bareback._ Goddamn feathered sneak. Stumbling across the room, he picked up the washcloth sitting by the sink and wetted it, first giving his junk a serious rubdown before folding the rag and rewetting the clean side so he could give his chest and stomach and bit of a scrub. Just ‘cause Cas had wiped him down didn’t mean he couldn’t still feel trace spunk there.

Not being a nudist, Dean did not relish the thought of sitting around naked while waiting for Cas to finish in the shower—especially not with how long he tended to take. So he grabbed his shorts where they’d been dropped on the floor last night and groggily tugged them back on, sat in a stupor for a few moments on the edge of the bed, and then flopped right back down into bed, getting underneath the sheet and getting comfortable. Napping while Cas showered sounded good—after all, he was gonna be doing all the driving, so he needed all the rest he could get. 

Not that Cas had worn him out. He was just _tired_ , was all. Especially since Cas had so rudely woken him up this morning before he was ready. He just needed a little more shut-eye, then he could shower and they’d get the hell out of here and go back to Bobby’s.

That, and he could yell at Cas for his little sneak attack after his nap. Bastard.


	2. Many Happy Returns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Dean’s birthday. Between that and Dean breaking all of his own self-imposed rules and regulations regarding Fun Time at Bobby’s, Cas decides that he needs to give Dean a very special present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean was having a grand time in “[Armageddon It](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1185692/chapters/2467360)”, but little did he know that he was also giving Cas ideas.
> 
> Mervin

_January 24, 2027_

_Man_ , Dean was glad to be home.

Didn’t really matter that he’d been out for only a month this time after being driven out by Cain—the jobs they’d been on had been rough as hell. The monsters they’d hunted had been vicious and tough and had given just as good as they got. Not only that, but the whole time they’d been out, Dean had just felt…homesick.

That was the Mark’s fault, too, and he knew it. Sometimes it did that—they couldn’t stop wandering, but they could sure as hell still _miss_ home, and sometimes he thought the Mark intensified the feeling just to dick with them. It was complete bullshit and he hated it, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it—other than be thankful that it’d only decided to ride them hard before putting them up wet after only a _month_. He knew from experience that it could drag it out for nearly six fucking months if it had a mind to.

He didn’t know, though, if it was blessing or curse that it’d decided to let them head home and relax on his birthday.

Really, his birthday really wasn’t anything he really cared about. It wasn’t like he or Sam ever really celebrated much—they’d sometimes mark the day, go out for a beer or something, but not often. Most of the time, they were workin’ cases on their birthdays anyway and so didn’t get to think about them at all until they’d already passed. But now, with nothing to distract him, he could think about it, and could remember that he was forty-eight today.

Jesus. Forty-frickin’-eight.

 _Better than fifty_ , he thought wryly as he pulled into Bobby’s garage.

Dean grimaced and put a stop to that thought immediately. He’d sworn a long time ago that he would not be one of Those Guys, men obsessed with their age to the point that they had a midlife crisis in an effort to regain their glory years. Far as Dean was concerned, he’d never lost ‘em. He could still take down any monster that came at him, he could still eat whatever he wanted, and he was still a hit with the ladies. Old age hadn’t caught him yet, far as he was concerned. Some small part of him occasionally wondered if the fact that, nineteen years ago, he’d been returned to showroom condition and had any wear and tear magically reset might have something to do with it, but he wasn’t gonna split hairs and dwell on details like that.

After cutting the engine, he hopped out of the car and made his way to the trunk to pop it open so he and Sam could get their stuff. They didn’t talk while they went about their business, which Dean was fine with—he was tired, and he could tell Sam was, too. Probably more so. And for once, Dean didn’t feel the need to call him a puss in his mind—he was too glad to be home. He was pretty sure that he was the one that Mark was riding, not Sam. Sam had wanted to stay a bit longer last time, and obviously hadn’t had any kind of bug or need to be driven out, and on the job seemed like Dean had been the one taking the hits. Yeah, he was pretty sure this stint on the road had been all on Dean, but Sam had gone with him anyway, wandering the earth despite not needing to and keeping Dean company so at least he wasn’t wandering _alone_.

Dean wasn’t about to mention it to Sam, but he had been grateful for it. Missing home was bad enough when you were wandering _with_ someone; he didn’t want to think about how it would’ve been by himself.

“It’s us,” Dean called as they walked in the back door.

“Well, who else would it be?” Bobby grumped back at him from where he was camped out in the library. “Don’t holler,” he continued. “Cas already went to bed ‘bout an hour ago.”

Dean snorted. “If he gets woken up, it’s his own fault for goin’ to bed so early.”

He rounded the corner just in time to see Bobby roll his eyes in exasperation. Dean ignored him instead just heading straight for the stairs. “But he does have the right idea. I’m tired—see you two tomorrow.”

“Night, Dean,” Sam said, going to the fridge for a drink.

“Night—happy birthday,” Bobby added.

“Thanks,” Dean replied, only a little dully, and then he made his way upstairs, swinging his usual left at the top and heading towards the shut door at the end of the hall.

He seriously couldn’t wait to get into bed. He just wanted to get out of his shoes and clothes and get under blankets. Bobby’s house was always a little chilly in winter, and so that made sleeping awesome. He could get under all the covers and be in a warm cocoon. Of course, his situation was always better because his sleeping arrangements included a personal space heater.

Dean was way too tired and too relieved to be off the road that he didn’t even care that he was seriously looking forward to getting Cas’s (probably naked) body all up against his, all warm and familiar and _home_.

He silently slipped inside Cas’s room, shutting the door behind him and standing still for a moment, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness. It wasn’t too hard; Cas had the drapes and blinds up, so there was plenty of moonlight streaming in from tonight’s half-moon. It was easy to spot the lump in the bed—a very inviting lump that Dean was very happy to see.

He undressed as quietly as possible—he didn’t want to wake Cas up. Cas didn’t move, so Dean was successful in that venue. He kicked off his shoes and socks and shucked his pants—wasn’t quite warm enough to ditch the shirt—and padded across the room. He carefully turned down the blankets and got into the nice warm bed, keeping it slow so as not to jostle Cas. Once he got under the covers, he was about to scoot in close when Cas suddenly rolled over to face him.

 _Dammit_ , he internally grumbled. “Hey,” Dean grunted quietly. “Sorry I woke you up.”

“You didn’t,” Cas whispered. “I was awake.” He pushed closer, getting right up against Dean, and yeah, of course he was naked. “I was waiting for you to get back. It’s your birthday.”

Dean blinked.

“Uh—yeah,” was all he could really manage, because that…this made no sense. Cas didn’t keep track of birthdays—because he himself didn’t have one, he didn’t think of anybody’s at all. He’d never wished Dean a happy birthday in his life. What the hell was this?

And then Cas leaned forward, closing the distance between them and kissing him. His mouth was hot and insistent and his movements were sure, and Dean suddenly realized _exactly_ what the hell this was.

Oh, God. Cas was gonna try and give him _birthday sex_.

He had no clue why Cas had suddenly decided to do this, but Dean knew he…could not handle this. It was—it was _Cas_. Yeah, he’d—Dean had gotten plenty of birthday sex in his day, but not from _Cas_. Cas probably didn’t even _get it_.

“Cas,” Dean managed, pulling away a little, “I—you don’t have—”

“Shh,” Cas whispered. “It’s your birthday. I want to do this for you.” Dean’s breath caught as Cas gently pushed him onto his back and just climbed aboard, straddling him and gazing down at him in the dark. “Please let me.”

_…Fuck._

“Well—I—all right,” Dean mumbled. “Maybe…a little…but keep it down,” he suddenly added. “Sam and Bobby are still awake downstairs.” And they were—Jesus, if they heard anything…

“I know.” Cas’s words interrupted his thoughts and kept them from going to a frankly horrifying place, and then Dean was being kissed again, softly this time. After that, though, Cas didn’t waste any time; he shimmied his way down, dragging his hands down Dean’s chest. Once he reached his goal, he started—shit, he started that _nuzzling_. God, that always got Dean goin’ when he did that. Dean’s prick was still soft, but the way he was rubbing his face across the front of his shorts, that would not last long.

As Cas rubbed him pleasantly through the fabric, Dean still couldn’t believe that he was about to get _birthday head_ from _Cas_. This—this was crazy. But his dick didn’t care, because he was getting stiff in a hurry. Cas wasn’t wasting time.

Once his cock was hard, Cas reached up and hooked his fingers into the elastic of Dean’s shorts and slowly pulled them down, getting them all the way down around Dean’s knees. Dean propped himself up on his elbows so he could watch because that was hot, and he wasn’t disappointed when Cas wetted his lips before opening up and sliding Dean’s prick into his mouth— _all_ the way in, as it were. Dean grunted as Cas immediately took him deep, just holding it there for a second or two and staring up at him the whole time. But then he pulled back and started sucking Dean off in earnest, and that was awesome.

Dammit. Didn’t matter what his original plans were, didn’t matter if he hadn’t even been in the mood, didn’t matter if he was tired—every time Cas took it into his mind to jump him like this and stuck Dean’s cock in his mouth, Dean _got_ in the mood, and once he felt that tongue licking up and down like that, all he could think about was how long it’d been since he’d had it and that just made him hornier. It wasn’t fair. But hey, life wasn’t fair, so Dean settled for getting some pillows propped behind him so he could sit up easier and stroke Cas’s hair.

Dean enjoyed watching his cock slide in and out of Cas’s mouth for a bit, but Cas didn’t just stick to that. A low moan escaped him when Cas licked his way down Dean’s cock and dragged his tongue over his balls, sucking them into his mouth one at a time and humming a little as he did.

“Yeah…that’s good, Cas,” Dean murmured, spreading his legs so Cas would have more room down there. “You suck my balls so good…”

Cas slowly pulled back, giving his sack a small tug as he did, and then licked back up Dean’s cock, ending with a maddening tease at the end. “Do you want me to suck it? Should I suck your dick?” Cas asked, barely audible.

“Yes—suck it. Suck it how you know I like it.”

Dean’s eyes shut when he was back in that warm, wet pressure, and yeah, Cas was doin’ it just how Dean liked it. Slow slides up and down, timed just so with hard sucks, that tongue getting up inside of his prick, _pushing_ and _wriggling_ , one hand high between his thighs gently squeezing his balls, fingers reaching up under his shirt to brush and tease his nipples…

Fuck, this was awesome.

Opening his eyes again, Dean glanced down because he wanted to watch. Cas was looking back, of course, looking way more serene than he had any right to be. He had a cock in his mouth—what did he have to be so _content_ about? Well, Cas may not have had a reason, but Dean did. He was getting amazing head on his birthday. It was from Cas, sure, and that was weird, but the fact that this felt the way it did greatly overshadowed the weird part, to the point that Dean was mostly able to ignore it now. He could concentrate on Cas looking all adoring and shit up at him, his lips locked around Dean’s dick.

Cas pulled off with a small pop, obviously catching his breath, and flicked his tongue across the tip once, staring up at Dean the whole time. He barely had time to contemplate that sneaky glint in Cas’s eye before Cas had swallowed him down again, and Dean moaned when Cas just decided to go for fucking broke.

Dean managed to get both of his hands fisted in Cas’s hair as he moved, going hard and fast. He had his hands on Dean’s hips, holding him still and pressing him into the bed as he blew him. It didn’t take Dean too long to get to that point, where everything was hot and his gut was tightening, his legs trembling as he shot towards the flashpoint, and he so wanted it…God, Cas was relentless…

And then all of the air went out of him when Cas fucking _stopped_.

 _Oh, hell no, not tonight—I can_ not _handle that tonight!_ he snarled internally. He did not want Cas’s start-and-stop shit. ‘Sides, it was his birthday, shouldn’t _he_ decide what he got?!

Before he could protest and try to make Cas go right back to what he was doing, Cas rose up, gently shaking his head to make Dean let him go. He crawled his way up to Dean, pausing only to nuzzle Dean’s chest for a moment, and kissed him once, not allowing Dean to deepen it and get frantic. He settled on him, straddling him again, and reached up towards the nightstand.

At first, Dean had no clue what he was doing—but then he realized he wasn’t reaching for the nightstand. He was reaching for the slit in the mattress. _Ah—that’s fine._ And it was. He was getting some lube. Once he got it, Dean was so gonna take control of this little situation; gonna make that angel get on his back and slick up his thighs. Dean busied himself while Cas messed around, nibbling on his neck, and reaching down to squeeze his ass. He smirked when Cas gasped as Dean wrapped his fingers around Cas’s prick and gave it a few hard jerks, but he didn’t do that too much. He just wanted to tease Cas, not get him off or anything just yet. So he just enjoyed Cas’s little noises, savoring those gasps and low moans—

—and the crinkle of plastic—

_Plastic?!_

Wait—

_Cas was getting a condom!_

That snapped him out of it. No! No, no, _no_!

“ _Cas!_ ” he hissed furiously, reaching down to grab his hips and hold him still as Cas sat back up, and yeah, he had lube in one hand and a condom in the other. “Cas, we can’t—we can’t _do_ that here!”

“Why not?” Cas whispered. “We did before.”

“Because we’re— _because Sam and Bobby are here!_ ” Dean answered furiously, his voice cracking a little as he raised it as much as he dared. “They’re fucking _awake_ down there, they might _hear_ , dammit—”

“Not if we’re quiet,” Cas breathed, setting the lube down and stroking Dean’s chest. “We just need to be very quiet.”

Dean’s mouth went dry.

“They won’t know, Dean, so long as we don’t make any noise,” Cas continued, all cajoling and—goddammit, Dean _knew_ he wasn’t being intentionally seductive but it still sounded that way!

“Quiet,” Dean croaked, his fingers still digging into Cas’s hips.

“Yes—I’ll be quiet,” Cas reassured him softly, staring down at him as he opened up the condom.

Dean was completely frozen; all he could do was watch as Cas lovingly slipped the condom on his cock, and then just as lovingly opened the bottle of lube and slicked Dean’s cock up with it, giving him two or three firm strokes. He used that same hand to reach behind him, and Dean knew he was fingering his own ass, and God, that was hot. But he only did that for a second or two before he was rising up on his knees, gripping Dean’s cock low and tight, and a helpless wheeze escaped him as Cas slowly lowered down, his eyes shutting and his head tilting back as he guided him right where he wanted it—

Dean clenched his jaw, sucking in a slow, even breath as he slid inside of Cas’s ass.

Some part of Dean’s brain insisted that was too fast—way too fast, Cas had all but shoved his prick in there, and there’d been no fingering, nothing but getting himself lubed up, so Cas couldn’t be comfortable. Dean stared at him, struggling to see him clearly in the dark and keeping both of them still by keeping his hands on Cas’s hips, but he didn’t look in any pain or discomfort at all. How—they didn’t do this often enough for that, and even if they did, it wasn’t like you could just _jump in_ like that—

His thoughts scattered as Cas leaned forward to press his hands against the mattress on either side of Dean, lifting his hips a little before pressing them back down, no hesitation or anything. _Fuck, he shouldn’t be able to_ do _that, unless he—_

_He—oh, fuck—was he—_

Heat stabbed down Dean’s middle as an answer presented itself to his addled brain. Cas had obviously planned this and hadn’t intended on drawing it out, and so he…he might have taken care of it himself…sitting up here, waiting for Dean, while fingering himself.

Cas had gone to bed early and might have been sitting up here, by himself at Bobby’s, cramming his fingers in deep, fingering his own asshole open, stretching it—

Dean moaned, because the combination of that sudden image in his brain and the way Cas had started to move, gently rocking his hips up and down, was way too fucking much. He’d already been hot from Cas’s blowjob; the possibility that Cas had been _finger-fucking himself_ before didn’t help at all.

The only sounds in the room were Dean’s panting, the quiet rustle of sheets, and the occasional creak of the bed. Because of the silence in the room and the intense need to stay as quiet as possible, every tiny noise seemed magnified. This whole thing—it was all just—he didn’t even _know_. Cas giving him birthday sex, Cas riding him— _at Bobby’s_ —Sam and Bobby just one floor away, still wide awake and talking…

Fucking hell, they were _right there_ , and Dean had his cock up Cas’s ass.

He honestly couldn’t tell if that fact was making him lose it or was turning him on. It might’ve been both.

In any case, he could tell that Cas had no such issues. He’d leaned down and pulled the blankets up around them a little and was keeping his motions slow, looking completely blissed out as he moved back and forth on his cock. Every time he pressed down, he ground his ass hard against Dean, pushing him in as deep as he could and making Dean reflexively lift his hips to meet him. Cas wasn’t touching himself, despite the fact that he had a raging boner, and when Dean reached up to grab him and do it himself—just to make him speed up, if anything—Cas caught his hand, threading his fingers through Dean’s. He pressed his hand into the mattress by his head, ‘cause he liked doin’ that, and Dean wasn’t surprised when he grabbed Dean’s other hand as well and gripped it like he was holding him down while he methodically fucked himself on Dean’s prick.

Fuck him sideways, this was so _hot_.

“Do you like how I fuck you?” Cas whispered suddenly, squeezing him hard with his ass.

“Yes!” Dean gasped, struggling to keep from moaning too loudly.

“Quiet, Dean,” Cas reminded him, and it sent a rill of heat down his spine that made him thrust up into Cas. Raising his knees so he could get more leverage, he tried to make Cas speed up because this was driving him crazy. He gave him a sharp hump, and Cas hissed, tightening his grip on Dean’s hands, but he didn’t speed up—no, instead, he just _stopped_. He sat there, poised above him, leaning forward with Dean’s cock only half-in him.

“Fuck me, Dean” he breathed. “Fuck my ass.”

Well, he couldn’t turn _that_ down.

Cas bit his lip against a whimper he couldn’t quite suppress as Dean eagerly thrust upwards, setting his own pace this time, a fast and hard one that would get him where he wanted to be in no time. He wished Cas would let go of his hands so he could grab his hips, or maybe just roll them over and fuck him that way, but Cas wasn’t letting go. So he just kept up what he was doing, his arms and shoulders pressed deep into his pillow while his hips bucked, feeling that heat build, and it couldn’t have been more than two minutes before he was approaching Zero Hour. Cas was rocking back against him now, panting and occasionally letting out a low groan to match Dean’s. He still had Dean’s hands, and Dean didn’t care. He just wanted to get off— _had_ to get off—yes— _fucking yes_ —

They both froze when they heard laughter on the stairs.

Dean’s heart felt like it stopped in his chest, a pain to match the way his balls were aching in protest at that screeching halt. Cas jerked his head to the side, completely still and staring intently at the door, his eyes wide and unblinking.

Dean’s heart came back to life with yet another painful lurch, hammering wildly when he heard Bobby’s muffled voice wishing Sam goodnight—and the loud creak of the stairs as he came up.

“ _Cas_ —”

“ _Shh._ ”

Dean snapped his mouth shut, quivering from both the idea of them bein’ caught like this and because he was still _right there_ —he was so close to the final climb that would make him come. Not even the knowledge that he might get _caught_ was killin’ his libido right now. Matter of fact, Dean was pretty sure it was makin’ it worse—just knowing that Bobby was _right there outside the door_ , all oblivious, while Cas was on top of him and they were _fucking_.

That, and the way Cas kept clenching down on him periodically.

Bobby’s footsteps were heavy, making a slow march to his own bedroom. Dean could hear him nearing his door, and he swallowed hard when Cas started minutely rocking against his prick, keeping Dean all desperate while he kept his own gaze fixed on their door the whole time.

They heard Bobby’s door open, and immediately after that, it clicked shut. Nothing but silence now, save for the occasional creak of the floorboards as Bobby moved around and got ready for bed.

Dean’s breath caught when Cas turned back to him. “Keep going,” he urged, pressing his ass down against Dean and driving him deep, and Dean had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from making noise.

Yeah—he had to keep going. He wanted to _come_ —he’d been close, so Dean pushed up and started chasing it again. No fucking way he was letting an orgasm get away from him.

Didn’t take too long—the thrill of possibly being caught had indeed made it worse. Dean’s breath sped up, his thrusts getting more frantic. Cas was letting out soft little grunts of his own with every movement, and when he finally let go of Dean’s hands, Dean seized his hips, yanking him down against him every time he moved. He looked up at Cas, and _fuck_ —his head was thrown back, mouth open, he was in utter ecstasy—

“Cas—” Dean gasped, “I—I’m gonna—”

Dean didn’t have time to tell him to slow down or even to reach up and grab Cas’s prick so he wouldn’t leave him behind. Cas slammed down on him, arching his back just right, and he _squeezed_ — _oh my fucking GOD—!_

Dean was frozen, his back bowed, staying as still and silent as possible as he came, his eyes squeezed shut and jaw unhinged as it took everything in his power to not howl at the ceiling.

He collapsed a few seconds later, twitching and quietly whimpering as he finished, going completely limp because _goddamn_. For a little bit, he didn’t move; he didn’t want to. He just wanted to sit there and quiver, because that had been awesome and Bobby was still awake, because Dean could hear him. Bobby was right there, one room away, and Sam was just downstairs, and Dean had just fucked Cas up the ass.

Dean cracked his eyes open again and there was Cas, draped over him and looking all serene and happy and content as he gazed down at him, still straddling him, still with Dean’s softening prick in his butt.

And still with a raging hard-on, Dean noticed.

_Unacceptable._

Giving him a little bump, he pushed Cas off. Though he still felt a little limp-limbed, he pushed through it, reaching down and peeling the condom off before grabbing a few tissues and wiping himself down briefly. He wadded up the condom in them and shoved it deep in the trash while Cas leisurely made to take care of himself. Dean did not give Cas very long to do that before he grabbed his upper arm in a tight grip and yanked him right back down onto the mattress, throwing him onto his back and immediately grabbing his cock.

“You liked that, huh?” Dean whispered intently.

“Yes,” Cas purred.

“Bet you did—you always like takin’ it up the ass.” Dean jerked him hard and fast, and he could tell Cas wasn’t gonna last more than a minute; unsurprising, given what they’d just been doing. “Tell me you liked it.”

“I _liked_ it,” Cas whimpered.

“Shut up—you’re too loud. Gotta stay quiet,” Dean hissed. “But it’s my birthday, so you gotta give me what I want—so give it to me.” He furiously pumped his fist, leaning down to bite Cas where his neck met his shoulder. “Give it to me, Cas—give it to me now!”

And he did, obedient as ever, thrusting up into Dean’s hand and crying out softly before snapping his mouth shut and pressing his face against Dean’s shoulder, letting out nothing but muffled, almost agonized moans as Dean wrung his orgasm out of him.

Dean wasn’t in the mood to move—or let Cas move, for that matter—so he gave him half a minute to pant and look generally dazed before he just wiped his hand off on Cas’s sheets, deep down in them so no one would see it. Then he hitched his shorts back up and settled beside Cas, flopping around until he was on his back. Predictably, Cas slowly rolled over until he was pressed up against him, one arm sliding across Dean’s belly to grip him low around the waist, and he nuzzled Dean’s shoulder contentedly. Dean wormed his arm out from where it’d gotten pressed between them so he could get it around Cas’s middle, pulling him close and sighing explosively.

Yeah, Dean was gonna have to draw a line about this shit with Cas later, but…he would admit that that had been a pretty awesome birthday present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go—that’s the only other exception to Dean’s “no anal at Bobby’s” rule. Cas read online that men sometimes ask their wives or girlfriends for anal sex on their birthdays, so he figured that was a great gift that he could give Dean! After all, he was proving receptive to that kind of sex at Bobby’s…
> 
> Dean did say no the next time Cas tried, though. Everything went back to normal. Cas was fine with that; he figured that was Dean’s way of making sure every time they have “real sex”, it’s something special. Dean and Cas live on the same planet, but they do _not_ live in the same world.


	3. Night Moves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas’s somnophilia was all fun and games until Dean realized that Cas figured once meant every time was okay. Once again, he had to establish some more rules—so he could break them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *waves* Time for the conclusion to “Get It Up”! Angels seriously, seriously _do not_ get consent. They just don’t.
> 
> These four instances I wrote don’t happen one right after the other (unless marked). They span seven or eight months total. Happy porning!
> 
> Mervin

_Set after “Many Happy Returns”_

Dean snapped awake with a loud gasp, struggling for breath as his eyes shot open as wide as they could go.

For a few very long seconds, all he could do was stare at the ceiling, panting a little, feeling his body trembling, and then he suddenly became aware of the familiar lingering heat and tightness in his groin that was slowly fading.

 _Please tell me I didn’t just have a wet dream and jizz myself like a fourteen-year-old_ , he thought painedly, even though he was positive that had to be precisely the answer—that he’d done something he hadn’t done in literally decades. And now he was going to have to make the shameful walk over to the bathroom and clean off.

And that’s when he became aware of the other sensation: something was gripping his softening cock.

He blinked a few times, and then slowly turned his head to the right. There was Cas, awake already, propped up on one elbow and gazing soppily at him with sleepy blue eyes, and upon Dean’s acknowledgement of his existence, he let go of Dean’s prick and moved to snuggle closer.

“Shit— _dammit_ , Cas—” Dean started, his voice rough with sleep, and he pulled away, his jaw clenched.

Cas went all confused and concerned immediately, struggling to sit up. “Dean? Are you all right?”

“ _No_ , you—Cas, this is the second time you’ve done that!” Dean growled in response, fumbling for the light switch above them so he could grab some tissues and clean off. “Why the hell do you think it’s okay to just—just fucking _go at me_ like that?”

Dean squinted against the light when it finally snapped on, but he ignored that and grabbed the box of Kleenex nearby, ripping out a few and reaching down to wipe off his junk and then shoving the box at Cas, who was still just sitting there with his hand covered in Dean’s spunk.

Cas took the box from him, looking hurt and ashamed. “I—you enjoyed it the last time I performed—gave you a blowjob in your sleep and then we fucked.”

Dean squinted. “Cas, it is way too early in the morning for dirty talk. Look, fine—you did it that once, but that doesn’t mean you can make a fucking _habit_ of that, okay? I’m _asleep_! I can’t exactly _agree_ to any of that shit, you know!”

“But you had an erection.”

Dean threw his tissue on the ground in frustration. “A boner is not a ‘yes’, you dumbass. Just—just stop doing that, okay?! The first time was fine and fun and all, but now it—just stop it, all right? Only when I’m awake, I don’t care how hard I am in my sleep or what happy dreams I’m havin’,” he ground out.

Dean ignored how dejected and abashed Cas was looking because the stupid tit fucking deserved it. He glanced over at the clock and saw that it was five-thirty in the morning—he could still get a good two or three hours of sleep in before he should probably get up. He spared Cas one more sour look before switching the light off and getting comfortable again, punching his pillow and rolling over on his side, keeping his dick safely faced _away_ from perverted angels who liked to fondle him in his sleep.

* * *

_Dean._

He heard the voice, but ignored it—whatever it was it didn’t matter. He was too busy watching those Japanese twins make out, their hands copying every move the other made. Oh, that was awesome.

_Dean._

Goddammit, who the hell was here? That sounded like a dude’s voice, and that was not welcome. Fortunately, the two ladies in front of him didn’t seem to notice and so just kept doing what they were doing, their hands sliding down the front of those little schoolgirl skirts—

“ _Dean!_ ”

And that woke him up.

“What—what the—” He fought his way out of the sheets, blinking rapidly in the darkness until he saw Cas right next to him all up in his face, looking soulful and intent. That one brief instant of being wide-awake was gone just as fast and sleepiness hit him again, and he stared stupidly at Cas. “What the hell?”

“Dean, you have an erection,” Cas said softly.

Dean stared at him.

Cas stared back.

“What?” Dean managed blankly.

“You have an erection,” Cas repeated patiently.

After a long pause, all Dean could say was another, “ _What?_ ”

Cas was looking a little confused now, but then he just started in again. “Dean, you—your cock is hard—”

“Yeah, Cas, _I fucking got that_!” Dean interrupted, shaking his head and struggling to wake up, because either this was still a dream or this was seriously happening—and they were both believable scenarios, really. “I—why the _hell_ did you wake me up to tell me I had a boner?”

Cas licked his lips, what little light was in the room glinting off of his eyes. “I would like to perform oral sex on you.”

Silence.

And then: “ _What?!_ ”

Cas sighed a little. “I want to—”

“Cas, dammit—you woke me up out of a sound sleep because you wanted to suck me off? Are you even _serious_?” Dean demanded.

Cas nodded.

“ _Why?!_ ”

“Because you got angry the last time I touched you in your sleep. You said I could only do that when you were awake and you’d agreed to it,” Cas replied earnestly.

Dean had nothing.

Cas, however, did. He immediately got that _coy_ look, and Dean felt his hand come to rest low on his belly right above his dick—which was, just as Cas said, all stiff. “Please?” he said softly, a hint of begging in there. “Please let me—I love to suck it—”

 _Oh, Christ, I can’t take this right now._ “Stop that,” Dean grunted, cutting him off and giving him a little shove. “Fine, just do it—just make it quick, you…” He’d wanted to call Cas something really witty and cutting, but he was too damn tired to dream up something awesome. So he just kind of trailed off and flopped his head back on his pillow, exhaling in a little huff and gritting his teeth when he felt the bed shift and the covers go flying—how on earth could Cas be so damn eager about this? It was still dark out! How long had he been awake to notice _what the fuck, Cas?!_

Dean nearly flew out of bed in shock when suddenly Cas’s mouth was on his cock, sucking hard and fast, and his hand was up on his balls, squeezing and practically _juggling_ them as he just started going at Dean at a frantic pace. He did, however, manage to prop himself up on his elbows and stare incredulously down at Cas; he could barely see him in the dark, but it was enough.

Enough was right—Cas had gotten so good at drawing it out that Dean had forgotten about how, when Cas was bound and determined to make Dean come, he was _unstoppable_. It was barely two minutes later when Dean moaned pitifully at the ceiling and held on for dear life to Cas’s hair as he went off, coming down Cas’s throat while Cas just sucked him the whole time.

Dean lay quietly for a little bit, just panting as Cas futzed around on the bed, lovingly pulling the blankets back up on Dean and burrowing under them as well, snuggling up next to Dean and reaching out to paw his chest.

Yeah, Dean wasn’t interested. He grumbled under his breath, turning slightly away and grabbing his pillow. He was going back to sleep—Cas’d had his fun. Now he could leave him the fuck alone.

* * *

_…The next morning…_

As far as Dean was concerned, there was no better way to wake up than on his own after a good, solid sleep—solid, because he’d gotten off the night before.

And that’s how he felt now—he could just tell. Those slow, lazy breaths, his warm, heavy limbs, just that extra-relaxed feeling that came with a morning after. He was just gradually waking up, his eyes still shut even though he was mostly aware of the world around him. That included Cas right next to him. Dean could feel his face mashed against his shoulder, and his arm wrapped around his middle. He snorted a little, remembering last night’s little to-do. God, Cas was dumb—waking him up just to give him a blowjob? Seriously? Now his fetish was getting out of hand. Dean’d probably have to have a talk with him about that. But…now this morning. He’d talk to him about it later. Because he had to admit, this felt pretty good—just a brief wake-up for some hanky-panky made him feel even better in the morning.

He finally opened his eyes, his brow furrowing.

Yeah— _just_ him. Because…

…Cas hadn’t gotten anything.

Dean hadn’t touched him last night. Cas had woken him up to give him free head…and he’d taken it. Something always swore never to do.

_Well, shit._

Well, didn’t _that_ just piss all over this fine morning. Now he felt like a real dick. He hadn’t even had the decency to hold him or anything—he’d just wham-bammed him, getting a blowjob and then rolling over and going right back to sleep—with his back to Cas.

Yeah. _Total_ dick move.

He frowned and huffed a little, shifting uncomfortably, and then realized that his own motions were causing movement from the other occupant of the bed. Cas was making those soft, sleepy noises he always made when he was starting to wake up, and Dean turned to watch him as he did.

Dean would never admit it, but he kinda liked watching Cas wake up. He was a total dork about it—if he was up against Dean like he was now, he always started out by flexing his fingers against whatever he was touching—and that was usually Dean. And he was doing it now, pawing gently at Dean’s chest as he rubbed his face a little against Dean’s shoulder and arm. He always did that before he even bothered opening his eyes. But then he finally did, and once they focused, he spotted Dean looking down at him almost immediately.

It didn’t matter that they were all bleary and crusty—Dean never could resist that look, and combine that with how he was already feeling, he rolled until he was on his side and facing Cas.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and rough with sleep.

“Dean,” Cas replied softly, his hand pressed against his ribs.

Cas made a quiet, obviously pleased noise when Dean just curled his arms around him and pulled him close, reaching up and tilting his head back so he could kiss him. Cas was not quite limp, but he had zero resistance to whatever Dean wanted to do with him. He pushed his hips forward a little when Dean skimmed a hand down to get a handful of angelic buttcheek, squeezing a bit, and then he inhaled a little sharply when Dean trailed that same hand around to curl his fingers around Cas’s soft cock and start lazily stroking.

Dean felt Cas start trying to fumble one of his hands downward, and he knew what Cas was going for. Well, he put a stop to that, wiggling so he could free his other hand from where it was under Cas and winding his fingers through Cas’s, pulling it back up. He minutely shook his head, and leaned forward to press a kiss against Cas’s lips before he could try and fuss at him.

Dean didn’t make a move to mack on Cas’s neck or anything like that—he just kept his forehead pressed against Cas’s, his lips barely brushing against his, feeling Cas’s breath puffing against his mouth. He kept his pace steady—not relentless or wild like what Cas had done to him last night, but just a nice, easy jerk, getting Cas hard in no time and then tightening his grip once he was there. He kept his own eyes open, staring at Cas, who was the one struggling to hold Dean’s gaze for once as he obviously wanted to just shut his eyes and enjoy the ride. But he managed anyway, just keeping his arms around Dean’s shoulders and rocking his hips against Dean’s hand, panting softly.

As much as Dean enjoyed filling their motel rooms with the sounds of Cas shrieking like a girl, he had to admit that things were near-silent like this, just the sound of rustling sheets and their breathing the only things interrupting the quiet…those were the ones he seriously liked. He couldn’t help it—it wasn’t a wild party, he was just being _with_ Cas, and watching his expression become more and more rapturous as he got closer to coming. His mouth would fall open, and his eyebrows would kind of turn up—almost like he was worried. Dean watched that flush spread slowly across his cheeks, and he quickened his pace, curling his arm back under Cas and pulling him close, pressing his chest right up against Cas’s.

Didn’t take too long before Cas was about ready to go—not like what Cas had done to him last night or anything, but still. So Dean kissed him again, and then pulled away just enough so he could whisper Cas’s name right there against his mouth.

Cas finally lost the staring contest, his eyes squeezing shut as he let out a hushed cry, digging his fingers into Dean’s back as he came. Dean caught his load as he usually did, keeping up the motions of his hand until he figured Cas was done. Then he let him go—and while he knew it was really bad form, he didn’t want to have to let him go to roll over and grab the tissues, so he just wiped it on the sheets before wrapping that arm around Cas as well, content to hold him this morning.

 _There. Righted that wrong_ , he thought as he tilted his head a bit in order to lightly kiss Cas’s temple. Now nobody had _anything_ to complain about.

* * *

Why, why, _why_ did Cas always find a way to rub his morning wood all over Dean?

Well, that was stupid—he knew why. Because if Dean was in the bed, Cas either curled up next to him before falling asleep or migrated over to him _in_ his sleep. So, yeah, it made sense that he was now poking Dean with a fat hard-on.

Dean huffed, shifting a little and trying to pull his hip _away_ from that stiffie. It didn’t work, because Cas just moved closer in return. Dammit.

When Cas made a soft little noise in his sleep, Dean glanced down again, looking at Cas’s face. He’d been about ready to wake him up, but that noise had stopped him. That was vaguely familiar…

Cas twitched a little, and his hips moved again; Dean ground his teeth together when his boner pressed against his own hip, and he felt Cas’s fingers flex. Only when he made that noise again did Dean realize what was going on.

Yeah, he knew what was happening. This had happened _before_. Granted, it didn’t happen often, not with him around, but when it did…

Cas was dreaming. When he dreamed, he wasn’t still and silent. He tended to… _reenact_ whatever he was dreaming. And he was having a wet dream.

Any minute now, the bastard was gonna start humping his leg in earnest; Dean knew _that_ from experience, and so he made to roll over and wake him up, but only got as far as facing him when an idea sparked in his head.

…Cas _was_ having a wet dream. Who knew what happy thoughts were goin’ on up in his head. There was a way to make them… _happier_ …and Dean had never paid him back for those times he’d done that to _him_. And, after all, he was gonna have to take care of him anyway, even after he woke him up…

 _It’s fine_ , he told himself as he reached under the sheets, his fingers walking down Cas’s stomach like a spider before he found what he was looking for. _Just payback—he deserves it, the little sneak. Not like I’m gonna make a habit of it—like him._ Dean scowled at the thought of waking up to find Cas messing with his junk. _Obviously_ he _didn’t see a problem with it then, so he won’t care if I get him off now. I’d have to do it anyway when he woke up._

Cas gave a soft little sigh on the first stroke, and his hips jerked when Dean rubbed his thumb against the head. But he went back to just jerking him, slow and easy, watching Cas’s face the whole time.

He liked how trembly Cas’s deep, even breaths got—and they got that way fast. Jesus, Cas was easy, even in his sleep. He wasn’t thrusting into Dean’s hand much, but his body did twitch a lot, his leg shifting against Dean’s, and he smirked when he felt Cas’s toes curl. He loved doin’ that. He detoured to cup Cas’s sack, massaging gently, and Cas let out a very quiet moan, and Dean fancied he could hear his name in there a little; wouldn’t surprise him, seeing how Cas did talk in his sleep when he got to dreaming. Dean wondered what was going on up there for a moment before returning to his handjob.

It was barely a few minutes into it when Dean realized that Cas was already close—he saw the flush in his cheeks, the way he was panting, the tiny whimpers he was making, and the way his twitches would sometimes turn into trembles. He contemplated just making him go off in his sleep—would serve him right. But no, he had a better idea. See, Dean had put the kibosh on Cas getting him off in his sleep, ‘cause that wasn’t okay—so Dean was gonna make sure Cas was awake. That was different.

He slowed down until he was just gripping Cas’s cock loosely (and was annoyed when Cas didn’t really stop doing what _he_ was doing, all his squirming and sighing; bastard better not go off before Dean did what he was plannin’), and then slipped his finger past his own lips, getting it nice and coated in spit. Then, very carefully, he curled his arm around Cas, moving down until he got his finger right there…

And then, right when he knew Cas was only seconds way from orgasm, he pushed it right up Cas’s ass, slow but sure, while at the same time bumping his hips forward hard against him, giving him a good jostle and tightening his grip on his dick.

Cas let out a huge gasp that was half-squeak, and his eyes flew open, all blue and bleary and bloodshot and Dean almost burst out laughing at how _shocked_ he looked, his mouth hanging open.

“Mornin’,” Dean grinned at him, and then he went for broke, jerking him hard and fast and moving his finger just as quickly, angling it right to where Cas liked it—

“D— _Dean!_ ” Cas’s voice was high-pitched and that was funny, too. He threw his head back, his eyes squeezed shut, and he clung desperately to Dean and gave a strangled cry because it was all over, Dean was just _too awesome_ , and he came right into Dean’s cupped palm; Dean never stopped finger-fucking him, because Cas liked that, and he could tell Cas liked that.

He finally stopped when Cas was done, letting go of his prick and pulling his finger out of his ass; he wiped his hand on the sheets, and gave Cas what he knew was a very self-satisfied smile, but he so didn’t care.

Cas blinked slowly up at him, his eyes all full of stunned adoration, his lips parted as he panted softly. He clearly had no idea what had just happened.

Well, _revenge_ had happened. And Cas had been _awake_. So there.


End file.
